Fi Ch. 02: Fi Meets Pete's Friend

This story is about a cheater. It also has some humiliation. If you don't want to read about that, please find something else to read.

This is also part of a series, including "Fi Just Can't Get Enough". The order of reading is unimportant, but I'd probably read that one first.

--------

Pete sighed. He was bored, but he didn't want to admit it. Sitting on a stool outside of a fitting room in a Department Store, waiting for his girl to give him a peek wasn't his idea of a good time. He had been here for quarter of an hour.

His girl, Fi, absolutely was his idea of a good time. She wasn't like a model or anything, she had sticking out ears and a little bit of weight on her, but she had the sexiest attitude. It was like she still flirted with him constantly. He was always thinking about sex with her. So he put up with this sort of thing. It was usually fun when they got home.

Fi was in fitting room B, trying out strappy tops and boob tubes. She was bound to be in there for another fifteen to twenty minutes. She had somehow persuaded the manager to let her ignore the three item limit, and had taken at least ten variations on the same theme into the changing room with her. How the heck did she get away with it?

"I don't know how you get away with this, you little slut," the store manager gurgled, looking down at Fi. His eyes were almost locked onto her big, round tits, which currently had his dick between them and a security tagged rainbow tube top covering them. She was slowly fucking him with her tits, while looking into his eyes. Even with those tits on display, even with his cock between them, her dazzling brown eyes stole his gaze about half of the time.

"Pete trusts me," she said with a sly smile, those eyes glinting, wickedly. "That means you get to fuck me."

A wink, and a little lick of the lips, and the store manager lost what little control he'd had. With a grunt and a thrust of his hips, he shot his load into her hot cleavage, splattering the top she was "trying on".

Fi smiled at herself. The manager here was easy to manipulate. Not a very good fuck, but adequate. And there were perks.

"Mmm," she moaned, pulling his dick out from between her tits, making sure to smear the top with his cum. "You came over my tits again."

"Well, I- ash." His excuse was sucked right out of his dick, as Fi cleaned the cum off of it with her lips.

"Meet me at the checkout," he said. "I'll discount that top as soiled."

"The skirt got covered, too," she lied.

"Ok," he acquiesced. "But you have to buy something at full price next time."

"Promise." See how easy that was?

"Did you find anything?" Pete asked her as she came out of the fitting rooms. She handed him a bundle of clothes while taking a furtive glance at the checkout. She caught the manager's eye and made sure that he was watching when she planted a passionate kiss on Pete's unsuspecting lips. Both Pete and the manager could not help thinking about fucking the sexy minx, and that was just how Fi liked it.

"I found a couple of things," the answer finally came, "but you'll have to wait to see them."

Pete raised an eyebrow, quizzically. The promise of a show, later, at home, hung in the air. Pete adjusted his pants.

"Oh, hang those up there for me," she ordered him with a cheeky smile, tuning to walk to the checkout before he got a chance to argue. He found himself watching her ass as her hypnotic hips swayed into the maze of rails. When her ass eventually disappeared behind a rack of ladies pants, he shook himself and turned to the reject rail.

Fi, of course, handed Pete the bag. Although it would have given her great pleasure to have him carry clothes that were stained with another man's cum, she wanted clean new clothes more. The cum stained ones were left behind in the changing room. The manager would find them later. Probably.

As they left the store, Fi considered where to go next. To the shoe store? She had worn the right skirt to give the salesman a good view of her damp panties. On the other hand, she was wearing panties, so it wasn't as much fun. Maybe pop in on Aunt Linz in the Tailors?

"Pete! What's up!" It was a voice from the blue, but it was clearly directed towards them.

Fi looked at Pete. There was a wide smile spreading across his face. Whoever had called Pete's name was in his sights.

"Hey!" He shouted with uncharacteristic brashness. "Mike!"

He threw his hand out and the two bumped fists, then shoulders, then hugged.

Fi cringed at the bro-ness. Reserved, quiet Petey didn't do edgy handshakes. He barely did handshakes at all. Another thing, how had she never met, or even heard of Mike? She was with Pete about every day!

"It's been a minute," Mike laughed.

"Like nearly a year, man!" Pete agreed. "Where have you been hiding?"

Fi was taken back. Pete didn't talk like this with any of his colleagues. Who was this guy?

He was slightly taller than Pete, who was six feet tall himself. He was a little stockier, too. Otherwise, they could have been brothers. Same dark hair, same dark eyes. Fi was mesmerized.

"Who's the wingnut?" Mike asked, referring to Fi's ears, which stuck straight out from her head. These same ears immediately turned red.

"Hey, leave my girl's ears alone!" Pete said, hugging her into his chest. "They're cute."

"Yeah, something to hold onto, am I right?" Mike made a humping action.

"Don't listen to him, sweetie!" Pete said, smiling and holding her close. "He's a big lug."

"No way she can avoid listening to me with those satellite dishes!" Mike said with a belly laugh. It was an infectious laugh, and Pete almost couldn't help it. Fi broke free of his hug and hit them both on the arm. It was mostly playful. Mostly.

Mike invited Pete to grab a drink, and despite Fi's reluctance, they were soon sitting at the bar in a downtown dive. On the other side was a short, muscle bound guy with a beard and a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey.

"Go Habs!" Mike called out to him. He had tried to affect a Canadian accent, but he ended up sounding like he'd never even seen Canada on a map.

"Take a flying puck, eh?" the bartender said in a much better accent, smiling. "What can I get you?"

"Wait," Fi said, tits resting on the bar, "Didn't this guy just," she made a circular motion with her hand, making her tits jiggle. The bartender couldn't help but notice. "Didn't he insult you or something?"

"Oh, no!" The bar guy answered, confirming that his accent wasn't fake, or that he was going to at least keep up the charade. "I've been wearing this Leafs jersey here for weeks and no one even noticed, eh?" He smiled and waved vaguely at Mike. "At least this guy knows, eh?"

Fi nodded, eyes wide. Her face didn't show any hint of understanding. The Canadian laughed and turned to Mike.

"What'll it be, then?"

"Two of those imported beers and," he squinted at Fi for a moment, trying to judge her tastes, "French Martini?" he said without much confidence.

"Just rum and Coke for me, please," she smiled. "Thanks."

"Take a seat at a table, please. I'll bring it right over, eh?"

Pete held a seat out for Fi, before sitting beside her. Mike sat across the table from Pete. The two friends were laughing and joking.

Mike had been a student in Pete's first year as a teaching assistant. Pete was lecturing, now, and Mike was putting the knowledge he gained to use in fabrication.

Some of the chat was technical and the jargon was over Fi's head. It felt like she wasn't really included in the conversation, but at least Mike wasn't commenting on her ears anymore. A little bit bored, she let her mind, and her eyes wander. The shoe store would have been fun. Maybe she could have some fun here? Pete was occupied, but there were always options. It wasn't long before she caught the bartender's eye.

"How's the new girlfriend, Mike?" asked Pete, taking a sip of his beer.

"Don't ask, man." Mike's head dropped. Finally, thought Fi, a subject I can get involved with, but Hockey Tender was already headed her way. A decision had to be made, and honestly, it wasn't even a tough one. Why talk when you can screw?

"Be right back, guys." Pointing to the bathroom, Fi got up. "I'm just going to freshen up." The Canadian saw her signalling her destination, and when their eyes met again, he knew what was in store. Who would pass up that sort of invitation?

"Hey, my name's Gordie," the Canadian bartender told her. Fi hadn't asked for a name. Had Maple Leaf Man missed the signals somehow? The sound of coins told her that he was buying condoms from the vendor. Maybe it wasn't his first rodeo, after all.

Eager to get started, filthy Fi put her arms around his waist, brazenly grabbing his stalk through his pants.

"My boyfriend's out there." Her warm breath on his neck sent erotic shivers through him. "Does that bother you?"

"Does it bother him?" Gordie asked, turning and pushing her into the cubicle.

"Ooh," she swooned, pretending that he had overpowered her. "Not if he doesn't find out."

"Then we ought to be quick," he said, handing her the condom. Ribbed. Canadians are gentlemen, after all. She dropped to her knees and pulled down Gordie's pants, and didn't say another word before she had taken this man, who she had met less than fifteen minutes earlier, into her warm, wet mouth.

"I'm just trashed, man," Mike complained. "I hate what it's done to me."

"Some breakups get you like that," Pete answered, trying to console his buddy. He'd never had a breakup like that before, if he was honest. He was just trying to be a good friend. "It'll get better."

"Will it though?" Mike asked, dejected. "I can't eat my favourite foods! They remind me of our dates!"

"Time to try Thai Fusion?"

"Never. It's never time to try Thai Fusion." Mike smiled a little bit as he said, "That's not food, that's fire on the way in and fire on the way out."

"You're a wuss, Mike," laughed Pete. Mike smiled and took a drink. He gave his glass a dirty look.

"I'm only drinking this imported shit because Bud reminds me of her!"

Fi groaned with pleasure, face pressed against the cistern as the Canadian mounted an assault on her pussy. The ridges on the ribbed condom felt really nice, just adding a bit more friction at the slippery opening of her honeypot.

Honestly, the guy needed it, as he wasn't all that big or good at what he was doing. All the same, she was getting into it.

The bathroom door creaked. She stiffened up, but the bartender just put a hand over her mouth and kept steadily fucking her. He barely even changed his rhythm to stop the slapping sounds.

The sound of water running began to emanate from the stall beside them. Risk had always got her going, and having someone in the next stall sent her over the edge. A brief moan escaped, and before she could control herself the orgasm washed over her. Trying and failing to contain her orgasmic song, Fi bit down. Gordie's fingers took the brunt of it, which made him grunt and snatch away his hand.

The next stall's occupant flushed and left the bathroom without washing her hands.

"Dirty bitch," Gordie growled, grabbing a handful of hair. He pulled his hips back, his dick completely out of her.

"If you weren't some slut," he sneered, "I would take this condom right off and give you a baby, but I don't want to catch something."

At that, he thrust his dick back into her in one motion, and began to pound her relentlessly. He pulled her hair so tightly that her chin hit the cistern. She came again, an unrestrained cry coming from deep within.

Gordie wasn't far behind. He grunted through gritted teeth as he blew a load into the condom. Fi turned around, barely giving the bartender's tap a chance to stop pumping. She slipped the condom off of his shrinking member, leaned over and kissed the tip, leaving her lips coated in his seed.

"Thanks, Gordie," she smiled, leaving the stall. "Next time, maybe start with the rough stuff. It really works for me."

"I can't get any sleep." Mike was saying as Fi came back to the table. She made sure the bartender saw her give Pete a sweet little kiss on the lips.

"I just keep thinking about her."

"Who are we talking about?" asked Fi, licking her lips. Pete licked his, too. The sound of breaking glass elicited a cheer in the bar room.

"Mike had a breakup," Pete answered.

"No shit, Sherlock," Fi snapped. "What was her name?"

"Melissa." Mike seemed to slip into a dream as he said her name.

"What a pisser!" Fi laughed. Mike's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Pete nudged Fi with his elbow to get her to stop. She didn't.

"Scaly hisser, you won't miss her, smells of fish her." She laughed loudly. Mike just stared. Pete went pale. Fi didn't stop laughing, though, and soon Mike started to smile.

"Who'd want to... kiss her?" he said, hesitantly. "I'd like to... diss... her?" Mike smiled. Fi stopped laughing and gave him an amused look before both of them suddenly burst out laughing.

"I like her," Mike told Pete.

"Awe, shucks," she said with a smile.

The subject changed, and they were having a good time. Pete got a round of drinks in. A girl behind Mike was complaining about something in the bathroom.

Mike heard her say "it was her," but he didn't realize that she meant Fi. Fi gave the girl's companion a knowing look. It didn't take long before the group had left, but not before the guy had slipped Fi his number. Mike raised an eyebrow, and Fi just laughed, scrumping the paper up and throwing it on the floor. That kind of guy would end up getting her caught.

Conversation moved on to how Fi had met Pete, and they laughed at how it was the same way Mike had.

"Pete meets all the best people through the teaching thing," he boasted.

"Fi has taught me a thing or two, herself!" Pete laughed, bringing the drinks back.

"I bet! Melissa knows how to teach me a lesson!" His smile faded. "Knew. She knew how."

"What happened between you two?" asked Fi.

"She didn't, I mean. My, umm." Mike trailed off.

"She didn't, what?" Fi pressed.

"Umm," Mike made some vague shapes with his hands. "How do I?"

"Leave him, Fi," Pete chided. "Can't you see he's hurting."

"No, but, just," Mike hesitated. He looked at Fi, he looked at Pete. He sighed. "Look, it's kinda personal. I can't... you know?"

Fi put her hand onto his across the table and looked him in the eye.

"Sure. We're here when you're ready to talk."

"You're so nice," he smiled, "but we just met."

Fi's ears went a little bit red from embarrassment.

"We are good friends, Mike," Pete assured him. "I'll listen."

He smiled.

"We do go back a ways, eh Pete?" A funny look started to come over Mike. It was as if he was considering something crazy.

"Yeah." Pete agreed with some concern in his voice.

"It's been a while though." Nervous, Mike looked down at the table. It was kinda cute, Fi thought.

"Not all that long," Pete tried to reassure him.

"Over a year." They could feel the vibrations not his leg shaking under the table.

"Is it?"

All at once, his nervous tics stopped, and his eyes locked with Pete's.

"Look, I'm kinda scared to ask."

"Mike! We are good friends!"

"Yeah." Mike wasn't sure if that was true. He sighed and took a breath. It appeared that he had come to a decision. Maintaining eye contact with Pete, he just came out and asked, "Do you mind if I camp at your place?"

"Sure!" Pete exclaimed, without thinking, then suddenly panic gripped him. "I mean, wait, you don't mind, do you Fi?"

"It's your place." Her laugh made him feel a little better. "I don't even live there."

"Yeah," he said, hesitantly "but, there'd be another guy around when we-"

Fi held back a laugh. Pete was usually the other guy in her triangle.

"I'm sure it'll be ok."

"How long do you mean to stay?" Pete asked.

"Not too long," Mike sighed. "I just don't want to be in the bed where..."

"Sure man. I understand."

After a few more drinks, Fi volunteered to call a cab. The drinks had made her horny. Worried that Pete would probably act prudish with his friend on the sofa, she called Jamal, her building's custodian. She knew he would be discreet, and his cock was huge.

When the car arrived, Pete didn't say anything. He wasn't too drunk to notice that it didn't look like a local cab. He thought it looked more like a private car. He was drunk enough to question himself, though, so he kept it to himself.

Fi hopped in the front without waiting. Mike and Pete shrugged and climbed in the back. The driver took off, and Pete gave him the address.

The thought crossed his mind that he recognised the driver, but he couldn't quite place him. That, he also put down to the drink.

It didn't take long to reach their destination. The driver took the quickest route without prompting.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone for the night," laughed Fi. "Call me in the morning."

Pete gave her a kiss and some money to cover the cab before they headed in.

"I thought they'd never leave," Jamal boomed in his deep voice. Fi pulled his huge black cock out and took it in her mouth as he drove off.

"One day he will figure you out, slut," he laughed.